


Home for the Holidays

by rainpuddle13



Category: Twilight RPF
Genre: Christmas, F/M, Holidays, Love, Married Couple, Romance, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-23
Updated: 2012-12-23
Packaged: 2017-11-22 03:20:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 1,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/605259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainpuddle13/pseuds/rainpuddle13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rob and Kristen spend Christmas together.  A set of related fic prompts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. {angel}

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. I also have no claims on Robert Pattinson, Kristen Stewart, or anyone associated with them. This story is a work of fiction.

She wanted everything to be perfect for their first true Christmas together which is how Rob found himself amidst the thongs of shoppers on the first Saturday of December in Harrod's. He’d been sent armed with a list and told not to return until all of the items on said list had been procured.

Christmas crackers for 12 - check.

Steiff Harrods Christmas bear - check.

15 boxes of Christmas cards - check.

Black satin slippers in size small - check.

Christmas pudding with Scotch Whiskey - double check.

The one item on his list that was proving troublesome was simply “angel tree topper”. How could she trust him with something as important as the tree topper after Kristen had spent two hours the evening before in freezing cold picking out the perfect tree? It took an hour once they got home for her to be satisfied with its placement in their flat. She’d spent half the night adding the twinkling multi-colored fairy lights and the ornaments she’d asked friends and family to share to fill their first tree.

Picking the tree topper was probably single most important decision he’d have to make in life, second only to choosing names for their children. He definitely did not want to fuck this up.

After being elbowed out of the way by more than one little old lady, he ended up near the back of the Christmas World area on the second floor of the historic department store, and that was when he saw it:

An angel topper draped in majestic red Stewart tartan.


	2. {chocolate}

"You gonna leave us any of that?" Tom asked innocently, reaching for the large tin of Quality Street in Kristen's lap. There was a growing pile of empty shiny multi-colored wrappers littering floor around her seat.

She hissed, "No!" and snatched the box out his reach, cradling it against her chest so he couldn't try to take it from her. "Get your own damn box."

"Well, excuse me for wanting a bit of chocolate," he sniffed, thoroughly offended.

Rob knew he had to intervene at this point because he went through a similar situation two days ago over a tube of Smarties and he didn't want his best mate to nearly lose a hand like he did. Kristen might be tiny, but she could be downright vicious when she wanted to be.

"Tom," Rob said, getting his attention before shaking his head, "I wouldn't do that if I were you."

"Why not?" the other Brit in the room queried. "It's not like I wanted the whole tin, just a purple one and maybe a blue one."

He blinked at his wife who actually growled at their mate. The blue ones were her favorite. "Uh, Tom, not so wise."

Kristen threw a few pieces at Tom. "There, that's all you're getting. I don't like those anyway."

"What is your damage?" he hissed, managing to bat away most of the metallic orange missiles before they could leave a mark on his fair skin. "Arggh, Orange Cremes?"

Rob watched as his wife ran off in tears, the tin still clutched to her chest. "Now you've gone and done it, mate."

"What'd I do?"

"Nothing," he sighed, easing up off the sofa to go see if he could console Kristen. Just a few more days then all of her odd behaviour would be explained. "Don't worry about it."

He just hoped he survived until then.


	3. {jumper}

"You do know that Tom will end up having to go naked if you keep stealing all of his clothes," Rob said with a grin, watching Kristen fuss with her outfit as she stood in front of the full length mirror in their dressing room. She was currently being swallowed whole by his royal blue jumper and trying futilely to find some way to tie it so it didn't look so big on her tiny frame.

"He can get his own damn clothes and leave mine alone," she grumbled while trying on a belt that made her look like an escapee from a bad 80s pop music video.

"I believe," he kissed the top of her head as he spoke, slipping his arms around her waist, "those are my clothes."

"And I married you, therefore they are mine now," she countered coolly.

"Why don't you put on something else?"

"Can't," Kristen whispered, looking up at him, a watery smile reflected in the mirror as she moved his hands to cover her lower stomach, "because none of my clothes fit anymore."


	4. {wood}

"I want a house with a real wood burning fireplace," Kristen announced over breakfast one morning out of the blue. "I've always loved the smell of a good wood fire at my parents'. Tay and I used to camp out for hours in front of the one in the den, staying warm in the winter, reading and playing games."

Rob looked up from the newspaper he was reading to look around the spacious, starkly modern flat he shared with his wife in Soho, London. "You are aware that those are damn near impossible to find over here, or in London at any rate?"

Every townhouse, flat, or detached or semi-detached home with a fireplace he was familiar with had long ago been converted to gas burning logs for convenience or put into disservice. His parents' Barnes home and Victoria's townhouse in Notting Hill were no exceptions.

"But it's what I want," she implored, giving him big doe eyes that she knew he couldn't resist. "Don't you want our children to know the same joy?"

He mentally added "real working fireplace" to the ever-growing wish list for the house they would be purchasing soon, that is if they could find one that fit all of their requirements. At this point it'd just be easier to build the damn thing from the ground up.

"Of course I do, kitten," he said with a smile, having learnt quickly over the past weeks that it's just safer to agree with her on the spot rather than try to insert reason into the conversation. "I'll ring the estate agent right after I finish the dishes."


	5. {bow}

“It was a stupid idea,” Kristen trailed off.

It took him a few moments to process the words spilling from his wife’s lips because his eyes were riveted to what she had on, which was very little, save a tiny pair of sheer black knickers with tiny red bows on the hips and a long length of red ribbon tied in a bow hiding her perk little breasts like a pretty little present just for him.

He actually gulped when he noticed the sky-high stilettos on her feet. “I’m sorry,” he mutttered, shaking his head to clear the lust from his brain.

“What’d you say?”

She huffed dramatically. “I look like a huge cow don't I?"

"No! Quite to the contrary, my love," he said lovingly, closing the distance between them and taking her in his arms, his large hand splayed across her lower belly. He could feel the slight rounding of Kristen's slender frame even if it wasn't noticeable to the eye yet. "You're the sexiest woman I've ever laid eyes on."


	6. {peppermint}

"Who comes to the pub and drinks a cuppa?" Tom disparaged, his handsome features twisted with his disapproval. "You should be drinkin' a pint with the rest o'us."

Kristen just glared at him from across the table, wrapping her hands tighter around the warm mug. "I was cold. It's a long walk from the flat."

"A five minute walk at best! It's two days before New Year's! We should all be getting our drink on!" he shot back, a sentiment echoed by the others gathered around the table in the back corner of The Crown & Two Chairman pub. "We should wake up next year wondering when the fuck that happened!"

Rob didn't like the way Matilda's eyes widened from across the table as she looked thoughtfully at the woman sitting next to him. If anyone could see through the carefully crafted misdirection, it would be his best mate's sister.

"You're pregnant aren’t you?" she blurted out before he could stop her.

The tea cup stopped halfway to Kristen's mouth. "Uh…" she managed inelegantly.

"I knew it!"

Tom set his nearly empty pint glass down on the table. "Is this true, Patty? You've been hiding some big news from us?"

"Yes, well, not really," Rob started and stopped. He wrapped his arm around Kristen's slender shoulders. "We told the family at Christmas, but wanted to wait until New Year's to share the news with you lot."

"We're still going to Isle of Wight tomorrow like we planned, aren't we?" Marcus piped up from the far end of the table, voicing what was more than a few minds as everyone else started to get up to congratulate the newly minted parents-to-be.


	7. {burn}

"Bugger!"

He'd turned his back for just a few seconds to see to the eggs and toast, or so he thought.

"Bugger! Bugger!" he muttered to himself, panic rising as he tried to figure out what to do with the smoking charred remains of the streaky bacon his wife loved so much.

Kristen had spent the better part of the previous day recovering from the 10 minute hovercraft ride over to the isle. Rob had never in all of his days seen anyone turn quite that shade of green before and it caused a bit of concern all around, but she'd managed to rouse herself for dinner and the usual party that had become an annual pilgrimage for their circle of friends.

This was not how he'd intended to spend their last ever New Year's morning as a twosome. He'd wanted it to be perfect, starting with breakfast in bed then maybe a stroll along the beach in the late afternoon…

He chucked the frying pan down on the glass patio table, disgusted with his less-than-best efforts in the kitchen. At least he didn't set off the smoke alarms and wake everyone.

"Baby, what are you doing out there in the cold?"

There standing in the doorway, bundled up in the blue blanket from their bed, was his vision of a wife looking like some rumpled angel descended from above to make his world complete.

"Trying not to wake you," he replied, his eyes taking in her sleepy green eyes and messy bed head.

"Come back to bed," she implored softly, shifting the blanket around to beckon him to her with open arms. "I missed you."

"I made you breakfast," he said, dumbfounded by the glimpse of creamy bare thighs.

"I'm only hungry for you," Kristen answered with coquettish smile.

Suddenly it wasn't only bacon burning in the small kitchen of the rented beach house just outside of Ventnor.

**Author's Note:**

> See the angel [HERE](http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Do1n17LGJVs/TQp6mVM69lI/AAAAAAAABEU/tBLffN5j0f4/s320/IMG_1180_c.jpg).


End file.
